


Compromised

by Wahmenitu



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 07:39:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wahmenitu/pseuds/Wahmenitu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Expansion on a scene in the movie.  Not longer, but some insight on what I think, (or what I wanted), to be running through the Black Widow's head.  Clintasha.  Short and sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compromised

"Now you sound like you." Natasha murmured, turning her head slightly to offer the man next to her a half smile.

Hawkeye returned the gesture, before looking down at his hands. She should know by now she can't fool him with this. The bat of the eyelashes, the reassuring, too knowing smile.

"But you don't. You're a spy, not a soldier. And now you want to wade into a war. Why? What'd Loki do to you?" Clint asked quietly, and Natasha's gaze dropped, staring at the ground. This was exactly what she feared. The question from him. Because only he would know something was wrong, and while she was stubborn, there was a chance he was even more so.

How could she tell him, in this room full of cameras and microphones. To reveal this would be to paint a target on both of their bodies.

But this was also them. They knew each other better than anyone. Where her skills failed, his picked up, and vice versa. He saw better from a distance, and she liked to get close. But how could she communicate her—their, unique situation?

They were spies. They were killers. Feelings came second, the job came first. But that had changed in Budapest. His voice tore her from her thoughts.

"Natasha?" he was prompting her, and damn if anyone else said her name like that they'd be dead and shed be in the next town. But now she knew. Knew exactly how to warn him, how to tell him how far gone, how deep they were in this.

"I've been compromised." she murmured quietly, and Clint's head dropped once more, as he murmured a soft, "Ah."

Because he understood. They were spies. They were assassins. Trained killers do not feel. They do not connect, do not get close, do not share secrets, and do not share lives. Spies do not fall in love.

Then again, he kind of had a reputation for making different calls.


End file.
